Fascinating food in New York and occasionally farther afield

Sunnyside

Spring rolls were a tad overfried, and sisig na bangus, made with milkfish, was not so sizzling as the more-common pork. But at this Filipino group lunch, we happily cleaned all our plates; chicken barbecue went fast. For more photos, see the EIT page on Facebook.

A suggestive photo, for Eating In Transation, is one that suggests nothing more scandalous than good eats. In this case the come-on is kimbap (also transliterated as gimbap, and sometimes kimbab), the Korean dish that wraps a thin layer of dried seaweed ("kim") around white rice ("bap") and various other ingredients.

If this Korean mom-and-pop did business on the Lower East Side or in one of the rapidly gentrifying neighborhoods of northern Brooklyn, it would be embraced as a treasure. Here on an otherwise bleak side street, cut off by Queens Blvd. from prospective customers at two nearby high schools and LaGuardia Community College, it's simply underused. On my most recent visit, vintage Top 40 pop serenaded just a handful of customers; the mini pool table had no takers. The well-groomed planting by the door, however, was the harbinger of a cheery welcome that, I imagine, varies little under the daily ebb and flow.

Other than the shop's signature, homemade (and low-sodium) sauce, you might not remark on any particular culinary high points. But haven't you, too, found that everything tastes just a little better when bleak surroundings make way for an oasis? Shown: my chicken teriyaki sandwich ($5), whose juicy tidbits tumbled hither and thither until I abandoned any attempt at a more revealing photo. The teriyaki burrito would have been better-composed and cheaper still.

Traces of two old signs are shown here from a vantage beneath the elevated 7 train line in Long Island City. One, for the long-gone confectioner Ridley's, is rendered in cursive letters on the building face; the other, for a company still in business today, is represented by the large metal armature looming above. It's not the usual rectangle, I'd noticed many times, but until recently I'd given little thought to the odd shape. Before peeking at a period photo of the sign in its prime (you'll need to scroll down a bit), can you supply the missing brand name?

Surviving signage, seen in outline34-09 Queens Blvd. (seen from the 34th St. side), Long Island City, Queens

Thai Diva has two in-house menus. A hefty binder rounds up the usual suspects — basil fried rice, drunken noodles, a fistful of curries — many of which might well be tasty. None, however, are as compelling as the dozen or so items on the single-sheet Northern Thai menu.

Compare, for example, larb Muang (shown with beef, $12) with a typical Isan, or Northeastern Thai, rendition of that minced-meat salad. The latter, relatively pale and coarse, is dusted with toasted rice powder, and the dominant flavor is sour as well as spicy. Thai Diva's larb, prepared to a recipe the chef learned from her mother in Chiang Mai, dispenses with lime juice and similar souring agents. It's more finely minced, dark with a heady blend of seasonings crushed to a paste, and dressed with fried garlic. Different, delicious.

Also delightful: nam prik ong ($7), a chunky dip of ground pork, tomatoes, soybeans, and (in sparing portion) fermented shrimp. It's meant to be eaten with the accompanying steamed vegetables, hardboiled egg, and fried pork skins, but I'd dearly love to pile it on a soft roll and make myself a Chiang Mai sloppy joe! For more photos, see the EIT page on Facebook.

Lemon, lime, orange, and strawberry are easy to identify, even for a Yank. Each roll of Rowntree's fruit pastilles (two for $1) includes those four flavors of the puck-shaped jellies, and one more, in purple. Consider that Rowntree's are made in England, also the birthplace of Ribena, and that final I.D. falls into place: black currant.

The twin finials at the roofline are painted yellow, blue, and red, a color combo shared with the hanging sign, the fascia, and the awning (provided that we count the backdrop to the picture menu). Draped alongside the U.S. red, white, and blue, the national tricolor delivers the message with finality: The owners hail from Colombia. Paisa denotes a region of the country's northwest, home to mountainous territory where, perhaps only on special occasions, cooking is still done around la hoguera — the bonfire.

Any open flames inside La Hoguera Paisa were too small to distract me from the baked goods on display up front. Among them: a particularly rich and supple pandebono ($1.25), one of many ways that the world combines bread and cheese. To identify a Colombian restaurant, there's no surer sign.

When this factory was built in the early 1920s, Ridley's was well-established as the oldest confectioner in New York. Founded in 1806 at 1 Hudson St., Manhattan, the company had expanded to a second, "up-town" facility at 1149 Broadway, near Madison Square Park, by the time of publication of 1872's Great Industries of the United States.

Which slice for you? This charming hand-drawn menu of cozonaci (co-zo-Nah-chee), a family of sweet Romanian breads, depicts cross-sections of nuca, stafide, mac, rahat, simplu, and ciocolata — walnut, raisin, poppy, Turkish delight, plain, and chocolate. Of course, bakers and customers just can't cut into the loaves willy-nilly to see which is which. The intact cozonaci indicate their fillings, too, by the shape of the loaf and by decoration: One wears a single walnut, another exposes a vein of poppy seeds.

Coffee and a cozonac (loaf, $8 to $10; slice, as available, $1.25) was the natural pairing for me. The menu board suggests another, however, that was enthusiastically endorsed by the counterwoman: cozonaci and wine.

Previously: In aggregate, saleuri (Sal-lee-Ooh, first photo below) resemble a break-it-apart pan flute. These savory breadsticks are enriched with butter and cheese — a tangy white variety called telemea is traditional — and sprinkled with the likes of caraway, poppy, or, at Nita's, cumin.

Sweeter, to various degrees, and from numerous other visits: a dense cake square packed with poppy seeds; raspberry-walnut rugelach; and a Linzer torte cookie. Also known as a Linzer sablé, this offspring of the fabled Austrian latticed cake customarily sports raspberry jam, though at Nita's apricot, hazelnut, and red currant reportedly also make appearances.